


Singed (Pietro Maximoff x Reader)

by themostmarvelousimagines



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 04:58:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8876938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themostmarvelousimagines/pseuds/themostmarvelousimagines
Summary: The reader takes their boyfriend, Pietro, to meet their family during the holidays. The reader and Pietro help bake cookies. Pietro makes mistakes that could easily have been avoided.





	

**Author's Note:**

> AHH HI I know it's been forever since I last posted but I'm here and things are good!!!! Someone requested this on tumblr and I wanted to post it here as well, so here it is! I hope it's okay, I haven't written anything in a really long time so it might have a lot of mistakes/typos etc. This is supposed to have gender neutral pronouns so the reader can be male or female, so if there's any indication of gender for the reader, let me know and I'll fix it. I also have a Bucky Barnes x Reader coming out on Christmas so look forward to that! Let me know what you think, and happy holidays :-)  
> Request: “I LOVE PIETRO how about making cookies and him snatching one before it cool and burning his mouth.”

You thought that you’d have to fight tooth and nail to convince your boyfriend to spend their holidays with your family, but you were wrong. Pietro agreed without hesitation, which shocked you, to say the least. You wondered if it was because Wanda would be spending Christmas on vacation, or if it was because he really wanted to meet your parents. Either way, you were happy to avoid that argument.

The flight went more pleasantly than you’d expected. Customs was fast, as was boarding. Flying wasn’t exactly your favorite thing, but it was never boring with Pietro. You were stopped every now and then by people asking to take pictures or to offer their thanks for Pietro’s work as an Avenger, which was always sweet. By the time your flight had landed, you knew almost everyone on the plane on a first name basis.

Once you’d finally arrived at your parents front door, Pietro was visibly tense, which wasn’t like him at all. If Pietro wasn't glowing with confidence, there was something wrong.

“You’re not nervous, are you?” you asked with a half smile. Pietro swallowed and stared at the door, his heart beating progressively faster with each passing second.

“Not the word I would use,” he replied, his voice shaking slightly. “More like afraid, or terrified, I think.”

You took a moment to stare at him before slipping your hand into his and offering a reassuring squeeze. “They’ll like you, I promise,” you said softly. 

An icy breeze blew tiny flurries of snow around your feet and you instinctively moved closer to Pietro, which he welcomed naturally. His arm slipped around your shoulders and suddenly you had a face-full of faux fur from his coat. It was warm, at least.

You knocked three times, and with every knock, Pietro could feel his chest grow tighter and tighter. He knew he’d agreed to meeting your family with enthusiasm, but there was always the chance that they wouldn’t approve. He couldn’t understand why exactly he wanted your family to like him, but for whatever reason, it meant a lot to him.

The door opened and you were quickly ushered inside by who Pietro assumed was your mother, but he wasn’t entirely sure. The cold air had done a number on his eyes.

“Hi mom,” you said gleefully to the woman, letting go of Pietro to hug her once inside the cozy home.

Pietro watched the exchange carefully, trying to figure out how to introduce himself. “Hi, I’m Pietro Maximoff, I fight dangerous criminals with my super-human powers for a living and I’m dating your child,” didn’t sound too terribly charming.

“Mom, this is my boyfriend, Pietro,” you said, gesturing to him with a grin.

“Hello,” Pietro said, swallowing the lump in his throat and extending his hand to your mom. Instead of shaking it, she took his hand in both of hers. He nearly flinched at the sudden warmth against his frozen skin but caught himself before he could.

“It’s very nice to finally meet you,” she said, her eyes crinkling at the edges as she smiled at Pietro. Before anything more could be said, your father came into the room- laughing noisily- and plucked you off of the ground into a giant bear hug.

After everyone had been acquainted, the two of you were escorted into the kitchen where your mother had been baking. For the first time you and Pietro both noted the hints of cinnamon and sugar cookies in the air, and it was undeniably delicious. It brought Pietro a sense of home, something he hadn’t felt in quite some time.

“I could really use some help,” she said, “Your father doubled the recipe on accident.”

“Not my fault!” you heard your dad yell from the living room. You and Pietro laughed gently and removed your coats.

“We’d love to help,” you said, slipping on an apron as your mom handed it to you. “Pietro, sweetheart, would you mind-?” you asked, gesturing to the ties on the back of the apron.

“Of course,” he replied sweetly, tying the fabric in a neat bow and placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

The smell of sugar cookies and homemade icing floated around the kitchen as you worked. You’d given Pietro the official job of rolling out dough as you decorated, and not before long, Pietro had red icing dotted on the end of his nose and you were coated in flour.

“You two seem like you’ve got this under control,” your mom said jokingly as Pietro rubbed his icing-covered nose against your cheek. “I need to go help your father finish putting up lights outside.”

“We’ll finish up the cookies, mom,” you laughed, not sounding too terribly convincing. It was hard to be taken seriously when your boyfriend was smearing frosting all over the side of your face. She raised an eyebrow at you and chuckled before removing her apron and wandering out of the kitchen.

After cleaning yourself up, you pulled the last batch of cookies out of the oven and began to put them on a cooling rack. Pietro was wiping down counters as you did, his anxieties about the evening having melted away. He was perfectly comfortable now, a large weight lifted off of his shoulders.

Maybe a little too comfortable.

As you were placing cookies on the cooling rack, Pietro snuck up behind you and pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, making you close your eyes and smile. As he did this, he grabbed a cookie and whispered, “You get distracted too easily.”

When you turned to ask him what he meant, he was holding the tree-shaped cookie in his hand, about to take a bite.

“Pietro, wait, those aren’t cool yet-”

Before you could stop him he bit into the confection and dropped it without missing a beat. He made a drawn out groaning noise and covered his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut. You reacted almost instantly, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice and water and handing it to your boyfriend. He put the glass against his mouth and sighed in relief.

“I tried to warn you,” you laughed, grabbing a broom and sweeping the cursed cookie into the trash. “Didn’t you notice how hot it was when you picked it up?”

“No,” Pietro said, wincing as he spoke. “Calluses.”

“Let me look,” you said, pulling the glass away from his lips to examine the damage. He hissed as you did, squeezing his eyes shut once again.

“Well, you’re not blistering,” you said, “I think you’ll survive, genius.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” Pietro said sarcastically. He tried to smirk but stopped himself for fear of making his wound worse.

“Looks like you won’t be getting a kiss under the mistletoe this year,” you said playfully, resting your hands loosely on Pietro’s hips and smiling up at him.

“Says you,” he replied, his accent creating butterflies in the pit of your stomach. You grinned and stood on your toes to place a kiss on his cheek, careful to avoid his burned lips.

“Doctor’s orders. No kisses until you heal,” you murmured in his ear. Pietro groaned at your words, partly because he knew you were right, and partly because your whispers sent chills up his spine. You could have recited the Gettysburg Address in his ear and it still would have turned him on.

“Fine,” he replied with a slight sigh, “But I didn’t burn my hands, so I guess I’ll just have to put them to work tonight instead.”

“You are so lucky my parents are outside right now,” you laughed, pulling away from Pietro and going back to the cookies.

Pietro kept to his promises.


End file.
